


Terrarium

by azure7539



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:20:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21898063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azure7539/pseuds/azure7539
Summary: When James had been little, he had dug up an egg in the moor.It had been on one of his so-called ‘expedition’ into the wild—mostly because he had time to waste and little adult supervision for hours and hours after he’d gone back from school up until suppertime.But yes, James had dug up an egg in the moor.
Relationships: James Bond/Q
Comments: 10
Kudos: 105





	Terrarium

**Author's Note:**

> For the MI6 Cafe's **Anon Gift Exchange Prompts - Week 3**
> 
> This hasn't been proofread. I can only hope that there aren't too many mistakes for now. I'll go back and check later.

Bond received a package on a Wednesday. It was definitely one of the bigger packages he had received in recent memories, and it had been sent directly to MI6 as well. 

Thoroughly checked, as with anything that ever crossed the threshold of this place, so all should be well, but Bond couldn’t help but feel a little bemused, as it was, about what could the content of it possibly be. 

The brown paper packaging was thin and traditional and it rang some sort of bell in the back of his mind as he tore it open. Bond leered at the almost familiar scribbles of address that had been written on it with a biro, stared at the simple, thick-walled cardboard box that had been wrapped up inside, then opened it too.

Nestled within all the padding was a terrarium.

* * *

When James had been little, he had dug up an egg in the moor.

It had been on one of his so-called ‘expedition’ into the wild—mostly because he had time to waste and little adult supervision for hours and hours after he’d gone back from school up until suppertime. 

But yes, James had dug up an egg in the moor.

It had been the size of two of his palms cupped together, a shimmering iridescent blue and flakes of gold that would shift colors under different angles of lighting. He had cradled it curiously all the way back to Skyfall, mud and dirt in his shoes and knees and hands from where he’d been digging about before, and unceremoniously hitched the door shut with a nudge of his hips.

The slamming sound of his carelessness echoed throughout the otherwise silent, creaky old house, but James hadn’t minded—he actually preferred a little bit of noise to break off some of the long monotone—and had quickly raced back upstairs after having kicked his shoes off.

Kincade would usually come by in the early evening to call him to dinner, but he had, as of late, developed a tendency to drop by much sooner, too. And James really hadn’t wanted to listen to all the questions and precautions about how he hadn’t supposed to have gone digging in the first place, let alone bringing back this… ‘specimen.’

And okay, James had been smart enough to know that this had a probability of not turning out well for him, so he had had all of it planned out: his mother had used to keep an exotic betta fish, and James had been dead-set on finding the abandoned bowl somewhere in the attic and storing his egg there instead.

Perfect plan. He could even keep a lid on it.

And he had done just that, and by the time Kincade had come hollering for him, James had cleaned the dusty bowl anew, tucked an old shirt of his that no one would care about anymore inside to create a makeshift nest, and placed the egg securely inside.

He had been very pleased with himself when he had run downstairs and Kincade had been none the wiser.

-

James had been diligent about keeping an eye on his egg and leaving it near the fireplace enough that it would only warm the egg instead of, well, cooking it. Before it had the chance to hatch.

Not that he had known for certain that the thing that would hatch out of it would be safe for him (in which case he could’ve just chucked it straight out the window), but… it probably had to hatch, right? 

Right. And James had been determined to see it through.

-

James had ended up spending most of his time with the egg, except for when Kincade was around.

He had snacks with it, played imagined campaigns with it in his general vicinity, and stared at it until he would fall asleep at night—always having wondered, in the back of his mind, of what it would hatch into.

-

Precisely one month after James had found it, the shell of the egg had broken.

Not that James had seen anything because he’d been playing in the moors and had had his back turned. And whatever that had hatched out of it had already been long gone by the time he had returned and had found the egg keeled over, broken in half.

(Or at least he had _hoped_ that it had hatched. And had not, well, had an unfortunate accident.)

James hadn’t been able to stop the disappointment and a sense of loss from welling up inside the cavity of his chest, but he had brushed it aside quickly ( _“Boys do not cry, son,”_ his father had said) and had picked up the scattered pieces of shell left behind on the ground. Because they had been pretty, because they had meant memories… and because there had been what had seemed like small, crimson grains of seeds cradled in the biggest piece of all.

They had appeared almost luminous, those seeds. James had never seen anything like them, and he had wondered about what they had been and why they had been there. But because they had been lying in what had been essentially remnants of his well-cherished egg, James had carried them back with him anyway.

It had been a wonder, how the wind hadn’t already swept them far away.

Maybe those had been left out for him after all.

-

Eventually, although it hadn’t taken much time to deliberate at all, James had decided to plant those seeds and see what would grow out of them. It had been the same drive that had gotten him to bring the egg back into the house in the first place, so of course the seeds would’ve gone in the same direction.

See, James hadn’t been stupid. He had read in books that normal eggs wouldn’t hatch seeds. So whatever this had been… He just had to get to the bottom of it.

The shirt and various other paddings and rags that he had managed to accumulate to build a nest had been set aside, huddled with the broken shells for later consideration, and James had used the very same bowl he had done before to start building a nice place for the seeds, all nice and fertile soil with good drainage.

A small terrarium of his own.

-

The seeds had actually gone on to sprout some sort of greenery. All within three days.

It had been a surprisingly fast rate, but James had told himself that maybe he had a green thumb or something and had just focused his attention on trying to flip through his father’s botany books instead. The volumes had been old and thick, and James really hadn’t wanted to do this, but he had been nothing but determined. He wanted to find out what these plants where.

-

Going through the entire series, based on recorded images and his own observational notes alone, had taken him another three days. In those three days, the seedlings had begun growing in abundance and had taken up the entirety of the bowl. 

The body of the plants as well as their leaves had all carried various different colors. There had been no uniformity whatsoever, and despite its healthy vibrancy, the shades of said colors had been leaning more toward a more subtle neutrality. Enough to be wholly captivating and fascinating, but not too much so that it would attract unwanted attention.

It had been strange, but James had been so grossly absorbed by watching its tiny little buds of promised flowers form rapidly in front of his eyes to even care.

These had been the very first flowers he had seen bloomed from his terrarium.

They had had the scent of exactly what he had always imagined excitement to smell like.

-

The flowers had only lasted for one day, and one day only. Every single time.

-

The second time the flowers had bloomed had been when his parents had come back to him after their slightly prolonged trip. 

Those had smelled like sweet adoration.

-

Once his parents had returned, James had taken to hiding his terrarium on his bedroom’s spacious window sill behind the curtains. 

At first he had thought that the plants wouldn’t like that too much, but nothing had happened, even after a long period of supervision, and James had been extremely pleased.

Somehow, deep down, he had known it was best not to show this to anyone, especially adults. Dad and Mum had trusted him to keep his own space clean and hadn’t often gone into his room anyway

It would be his lovely little secret.

-

After Kincade had taught him how to hunt correctly and respectfully for the first time, James had come back with a grin and discovered the third, seemingly quite coincidental, flowering. These had had the faint scent of gunpowder.

-

James had turned eleven when his parents had died in a climbing accident.

The terrarium, as it had turned out, had died along with his childhood.

* * *

_“You had it on your window sill for a long time; I’d see it whenever I walked by. And I don’t know, couldn’t find it in myself to throw it away, I suppose. Kept it in me storage for years, but I happened to see it the other day while I was cleaning, and it has somehow managed to come fully back to life? I don’t know, I figured I should send it to you. It seemed like it was important to you. Back then.”_

Back when he had largely been all alone in that big old house of Skyfall.

* * *

“So that’s a childhood relic?” Q jutted his chin at the terrarium that now sat on yet another window sill, this time in the space of Q’s little London flat. “I’m surprised it lasted this long.” 

Bond accepted the cup of coffee that Q handed to him, the smarting bruises that he had acquired from his last missions making him want to go back to bed as soon as possible. He shrugged. “You won’t be the first.” Honestly, it was already a miracle in and of itself that the fur monsters hadn’t knocked it over yet.

Q tilted his head to the side and studied the bowl with clear curiosity, squinting at the strange plants growing inside. The colors weren’t as brilliant as they had used to be, according to Bond’s dodgy memories anyway, as though the foliage was still in the process of recovering after an unexpectedly extended hibernation. 

“Odd plants,” Q concluded, turning to place a gentle hand on Bond’s shoulder, careful to avoid the healing injuries. “But they smell nice.”

He leant in to press a chaste kiss to Bond’s lips, and Bond grunted back in acknowledgement and agreement.

It did smell nice.

It smelt like home.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Prompt:** James finds a big egg and hatches it. What comes out? You decide!
> 
> I don't know why I came up with this; it's weird, but... oh well lol I hope you all enjoyed it!


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